


sweet & right & merciful

by frozenpapers



Series: The Valonqar Prophecy [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Nightmares, Set a few weeks after her coronation, Valonqar Prophecy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 05:04:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10937577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenpapers/pseuds/frozenpapers
Summary: The Queen wakes to a nightmare. Realization and denial sets forth.





	sweet & right & merciful

**Author's Note:**

> This was a solo written for my Cersei Lannister account on Twitter.

The sleeping silks were warm beneath skin of porcelain, oceans of softness swallowing the petite body upon it, aiding her with comfort as she sailed in sweet slumber. Her chest rose and fell, a sigh escaping those corpulent lips as the flicker of the fire residing in the hearth illuminated features that were sharpened by time. Long and thick lashes fan against the structured bones that had been part of the aesthetics of her visage, painting her as an ethereal being floating above feathers. Beside her slumbered a man that bore the same features, though his were sharper – a touch of masculine within her own reflection. Unlike she, his eyes had been opened, eyes of jade that were iridescent due to the combined glow the fire and the sliver of moonlight that had gone through the curtains’ slits. Those beauteous hues were focused upon the body beside him, watching her chest rise and fall, taking in the purple welts that bloomed on her ivory mounds – flowers that had been from his lips less plump than hers, flowers that had claimed her as his.

He moved as graceful as she was despite the lack of a hand and the addition of another heavy weight brought upon a hollow land gold likeness of what he had lost. He covered her body with his, his hand that had been of flesh seeking the wetness between her thighs, drawing a finger within her as she tasted her lips. They were made of cloves and wine, it had seemed, and he had always found himself drunk in them.  
  
A sigh had blossomed from the lips of the monarch, eyes fluttering slowly as sleep was discarded by wanton want elicited by the reflection that hovered above her. The kiss was fire within her veins, giving her breath just as it had stolen it, bringing her to life as though she had been dead for so long. Slender fingers were brought upon the golden shroud of the lion, tangling themselves into such softness to bring him closer to her. She was greedy, and she wanted more than he was offering as she had always had; and he gave as he had always given whatever it was she had desired from him.  
  
It was not for long before his finger had abandoned her and had been replaced by the thickness of his member, stretching her sumptuously with its length and width. Her emerald hues almost roll to a close as he had moved above and inside her, partaking in such a beautiful dance they had often started wherever they had pleased. His hands found purchase on the crevice of her neck, where flesh was warm upon flesh and gold was cold upon skin.  
  
Her fingers found the sharpness of his jaw, dotingly running the pads over the golden and silvery stubble that grew upon fair skin. She met his eyes, eyes that seemed sharp and steady that looked into the emptiness that festered within her. His lips twitched as she felt a tightness surrounding the length of her pale neck, caressing her horridly, constricting her lungs and depriving her of the air she needed.  
  
A wetness had filmed the green of those beautiful hues, blurring her vantage as she had thrashed underneath him, desperate to be filled by the sweetness of air circulating within her. Those slim fingers were now upon his arms, feeling the strength beneath her palm even though her senses were slowly and painfully leaving her. She clutched him, but never could bring herself to cause him pain, to have him pay for what he was doing to her. She hoped that it would awaken him from this madness, but all it had done was elicit a sad smile from him as he leaned down to kiss her forehead as he had always done.  
  
“For the realm, Aerys must die.” He murmured into her ear, his breath cold against her skin as her strength evaded her, as life suddenly felt so far away to clutch upon.  
  
Before she had completely succumbed into the abyss of death, she had met her brother’s eyes one last time as he had cried out how apologetic he was for the tragedy that had come upon them. It was Jaime’s hand she felt first when she had entered the world of the living, and it was his hand last she’d felt when she had entered the world of the dead.  
  
“…ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ yᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅʀᴏᴡɴᴇᴅ yᴏᴜ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀʟᴏɴqᴀʀ ꜱʜᴀʟʟ ᴡʀᴀᴩ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ yᴏᴜʀ ᴩᴀʟᴇ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴏᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ yᴏᴜ.”  
  
She didn’t break her fast with the others, and had instead opted to eat in the confines of her solar. She had instructed her stewards that she was not to be disturbed for the rest of the day and till evening may come, and shall someone may insist on seeing her, they were to direct themselves to the Hand of the Queen or back from whence they came. Whether it may be someone of importance in the realm or her dear brother, they will answer to closed doors. The Queen needed her wits collected as the troubles of the horrid dream had still enveloped her mind.  
  
In her solar, she stood with only the faint light of the candles lit about as she studied herself in front of the mirror before her. Those jaditic hues were upon the length of her slender neck, imagining a violet necklace strewn around it so delicately, imagining a golden hand and another of flesh wrapped about it so angrily. The Queen flinched as she placed the pads of her fingers amongst her pale skin as though the bruises were there to be violated, as though what had occurred in her mind while deep in slumber had been true. She didn’t want to believe that Jaime was capable of such. She must only be projecting her grief onto the prophecy that she’d tried to believe to be null. She must.  
  
A clamour was heard behind closed doors, and Cersei had directed her gaze upon it, an angry bellow being heard that she had guessed had been from her twin. The sound of sword being unsheathed had reached her ears, and in a moment, she was at her door, peering on the Mountain and Jaime through the small slit she had opened to let half her body come forth outside.  
  
“I am not fit to see you, brother of mine.” She had stated once she had met the eyes of her brother, much different yet so alike from the eyes she’d seen in her sleep. Goose-prickles had littered her skin, and she had to look away when he had advanced to reach her. “Please,”  
  
The Lord Commander of the Queensguard never took delight in being denied, and it was riddled all over the features he had shared with her. He dared step forward as he placed a hand on the cusp of her jaw to caress her, but she had pulled away.  
  
“What’s wrong?” An inquiry passed his lips as brows of gold were furrowed, piercing verdant hues pinned about her pallid to assess her.  
  
She had drawn in a breath. “I’m feeling ill, is all.”  
  
“I can cater to your needs. How does Her Grace want me to serve her?” He stated, a playfulness in the lines of worry that marred his features.  
  
“I can do very well on my own.” She responded. “I wish for the Lord Commander to do as he is bid. Ser Gregor will see to my safety and needs, as you will resign yourself for tonight. I have no need of you.”  
  
“I need – “  
  
“Good night, Ser Jaime.”  
  
The door was shut in her brother’s face, dismissing him without further rebuke. She wondered if the nightmare would cause a rift between their relationship, and gods, she hoped that it would not. All she needed was to get this ghastly thought out of her head for the night, and everything will be as it were. Walking past the mirror, she sat on her chair and drank her wine deeply. The prophecy was nothing but sentences strung together to form a lie.


End file.
